


A matter of memories

by LaMalefix



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 11:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMalefix/pseuds/LaMalefix
Summary: It is weird,solitude.Before Magnus, his loneliness was different, and perhaps it weighed on him but didn’t have a name, or precise characteristics. Now it does have a name, and it has a shape and a consistency that no, he doesn’t like. It’s like a ghost that is chasing after him to bite the bottom of his soul all the time, to wrench his flesh, to take his breath from his lungs, to rip off his heart. It howls in the immediate vicinity of his ears and every time he turns, that he seems to see something, that something that was there and that now is no more, the emptiness that falls on him is unbridgeable.Before Magnus it was easy to be alone.And now he can’t even define this after Magnus.Magnus has lost his memories of his life with Alec, of their love and their happiness. And Alec is now left to pick up the pieces of their lost love.But they always manage to find their way back to each other... Right?





	A matter of memories

**Author's Note:**

> So, let's start this new year with a angsty fiction, shall we?  
> I wanted to write this 3-chapter story about memory loss and finally managed to let it out of my head... but I thought this first chapter would be shorter and here we are with a 13000 words chapter, and I don't actually know if this work will be a 3-chapter long or a bit longer... because I don't want to rush things...  
> We will see... 
> 
> First chapter's title is a traslation of a verse of Alda Merini's poem "Ora il corpo è sublime" - _Forse dentro al vento è rimasto qualcosa del tuo amore_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> ### […]οἰκειότητι καὶ ἔρωτι, οὐκ ἐθέλοντες ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν χωρίζεσθαι ἀλλήλων οὐδὲ σμικρὸν χρόνον. καὶ οἱ διατελοῦντες μετ᾽ ἀλλήλων διὰ βίου οὗτοί εἰσιν, οἳ οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἔχοιεν εἰπεῖν ὅτι βούλονται σφίσι παρ᾽ ἀλλήλων γίγνεσθαι. οὐδενὶ γὰρ ἂν δόξειεν τοῦτ᾽ εἶναι ἡ τῶν ἀφροδισίων συνουσία, ὡς ἄρα τούτου ἕνεκα ἕτερος ἑτέρῳ χαίρει συνὼν οὕτως ἐπὶ μεγάλης σπουδῆς: ἀλλ᾽ ἄλλο τι βουλομένη ἑκατέρου ἡ ψυχὴ[…]  
>    
> 
> 
> #####    
>  […]Happens on his own particular half, the two of them are wondrously thrilled with affection and intimacy and love, and are hardly to be induced to leave each other's side for a single moment. These are they who continue together throughout life, though they could not even say what they would have of one another. No one could imagine this to be the mere amorous connection, or that such alone could be the reason why each rejoices in the other's company with so eager a zest: obviously the soul of each is wishing for something else that it cannot express[…]  
>  Plato, Symposium – 192 c. Aristophanes’ speech about Love. [Translated by Harold N. Fowler, 1925.]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a moment, a very brief instant when his mind is clouded by sleep and he extends his hand on the mattress and he still can touch it, that warmth from the other side of the bed, under the covers.

But then he feels it, that excruciating void and the cold that greets him and hovers in the still air in his room at the Institute.

And this is the moment in which he realizes, every morning, that he is alone. And his heart breaks a little more in his chest.

Coming back to life at the Institute was one of the most painful things he’s ever done in his life. In addition to having to free the apartment from all those memories, all their memories. From all the things that the two of them have accumulated together in the short time they were a couple.

All their things are arranged around his room, and maybe it was a bad idea. Because every time he comes back in there, he undresses and climbs limply on the bed, he sees all those things and remembers what he has lost, he remembers that he is alone. As if he could ever forget it.

It is weird, _solitude_.

Before Magnus, his loneliness was different, and perhaps it weighed on him but didn’t have a name, or precise characteristics. Now it does have a name, and it has a shape and a consistency that no, he doesn’t like. It’s like a ghost that is chasing after him to bite the bottom of his soul all the time, to wrench his flesh, to take his breath from his lungs, to rip off his heart. It howls in the immediate vicinity of his ears and every time he turns, that he seems to see something, that something that was there and that now is no more, the emptiness that falls on him is unbridgeable.

Before Magnus it was easy to be alone.

And now he can’t even define _this_ after Magnus.

Because he never considered it. It never had to happen. He had to grow old by his side and slowly annihilate from his life, and not disappear so suddenly. He must have the means to say goodbye, to look at him and to mirror himself in his eyes, to recognize himself in that sea of deep honey that are his eyes until his last breath. Let himself be lulled by his velvet voice in the endless sleep of death.

And now death is a mirage.

And his life with Magnus is a distant and impossible memory.

A memory that only Alec has.

Because Magnus doesn’t even know he exists.

He and their years together have disappeared from his life in a whisper of smoke, like dust in the wind.

And perhaps a part of him lives, for that very brief moment, before dawn, when he still feels Magnus’ presence beside him, the sparkling sensation of his magic running under his skin as his fingers climb up his back. But then he looks at his hand and sees the wedding ring that sparkles in the first light of dawn, and looks at the emptiness next to him and he remembers, once again with the breath that breaks in his throat, that death is a mirage now for him and that Magnus doesn’t even remember that he exists.

And it’s been eighteen months. That his marriage is over and if he really wants to be dramatic, he could say that it ended before he started, practically. When it happened, when it happened they had been married for just over a week. They would leave for their very short honeymoon in about ten days.

And he doesn’t know if he can call himself a widower, if he can cry on this loss, on the loss of someone who is alive and lives in their apartment but who doesn’t know he’s ever existed.

It’s eighteen months that he wakes up in a cold bed, in his room at the Institute, a room that he would never want to live in again, that he would never have to live in again.

But then something happened a few weeks ago, something weird that he didn’t hope it would happen: he, Magnus, walked in front of the Institute with an air absorbed and nostalgic on his face, and looked at the ruined profile of the glamor that covers and protects the stronghold of the Nephilims of New York as if something had attracted him there, as if he knew. _As if he knew_ Alec is there.

And once it may be a coincidence, maybe he had to meet someone nearby, but then he started appearing there every morning, very early, with two cups of coffee, from the usual cafeteria on the corner. And something in Alec came to. Hope has come to.

It’s as if he knew.

As if he knew Alec is there.

In some ways the two of them always find a way back to each other.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been weeks, maybe it will be a month soon. When Magnus wakes up, in the morning he hums a little tune that he didn’t even know he knew. He gets dressed. He looks at the unmade bed and a strange senseless breath of nostalgia catches him.

He is alone. Every morning since Catarina allowed him to return to his apartment, after he woke up, he is alone.

And there is something quaint, as if he wasn’t meant to be alone, as if there should be someone there with him, in bed, to have breakfast. It’s as if the rings he puts on his fingers are horribly wrong. As if his house, which he has always known, perhaps better than himself, is oddly different.

When he woke up from what he calls his _lethargy_ , Catarina told him that he slept for almost a whole year. _A whole year_. Things have happened, things that have destabilized his magic, that at a certain point he did something stupid before falling asleep. And in doing this stupid thing, he lost his memories. His memories of the past five years. So, basically, he lost six years of his life.

And maybe that’s why every morning he wakes up at an impossible time, too early for someone accustomed like him to party hard and late, which incidentally he doesn’t seem to like it too much right now.

In the morning , every morning, he wakes up at an impossible time, in fact, and walks for a good few blocks to recover a coffee in a cafeteria too, _too far_ from his apartment. And in this café the shop assistants recognize him, of course he attracts a little attention, and they bring him the usual.

Here is the problem. The usual.

The usual are two cups of coffee, one sweet and creamy that meets his taste, and another bitter with sugar and cream aside that he just can’t understand why it’s in his usual order, and a bear’s claw divided in two halves.

Usually, then, he is still walking, but not to his house, but to what he knows to be the Institute of New York, a den of Nephilims.

And he looks, he looks at the imposing façades disguised with some aging glamor, and he wonders every time how it’s possible for him to cross that glamor so quickly. And every time a certain impossible nostalgia catches his breath.

And after having swallowed that usual bitter despondency, drowning it in his sweet and creamy coffee, he turns his heels and takes the way home, leaving the other bitter coffee and a plentiful bill and half of his bear’s claw to the first hobo he finds.

Maybe there’s a reason why he can’t tell the shop assistant to stop making two coffees to take away, and just ask his coffee directly: maybe a part of him hopes to remember something, he hopes to meet that person who looks like he’s waiting since he woke up. Maybe, with a little luck, sooner or later it will happen.

At home, then, he usually plunges into the reading, and occasionally chirps that tune under his breath and looks at the door, as if waiting for someone. Someone? Who?

And when he gets hungry he orders in places he did not know he actually knew, or he orders food that he did not like before, and usually the order is too abundant, as if he had guests.

He tried to ask for clarification, but Catarina merely explained to him that his memory is blocked by a very strong, indissoluble demonic spell. It’s obvious that he has infuriated someone and perhaps it’s too early to remember, and his magic is too unsteady, after all that lethargy.

And maybe it’s okay not to remember.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alec is impatient.

He is back from a short trip to Idris and now he is at the window waiting for Magnus to walk in front of the Institute. Magnus. With two coffees of their usual café in his hands.

But he is happy, apart from the pain that stings in his throat, that Magnus is finally better.

He spoke with Catarina, his only contact in Magnus’ new life, but there is no good news. What should he expect, anyway? He doesn’t exist in this new life, it is as if there had never been that first fateful meeting, as if Magnus had never fought alongside them against Valentine. And maybe it’s good that he doesn’t remember the war.

And a part of him, who knows how important or dominant over the others, hoped, so ardently hoped to see him climb the stairs of the Institute to open the door and find him in his arms, words stifled against his chest.

But it’s stupid to hope. Hope hurts more than anything else.

There is no way out of all this.

Magnus will never come back. His Magnus will never come back. This told the demon that day, when he had─

“Why don’t you go down?” Clary asks, passing him a coffee that is not even remotely similar to what Magnus will bring there at any moment, and which he will then leave to the hobo at the corner in less than ten minutes.

“Go and talk to him,” Jace reiterates, looking out the window over Alec’s shoulder.

And Alec sighs and nervously rotates his wedding ring around his finger. Maybe he’s a little thinner, now the metal band is a little wide, or maybe he’s consuming his finger in the process of spinning it like that. “Why should I?”.

“Because you’re made to be together, Alec.” Isabelle grumbles, half of her face sunk in her third donut, the only thing that manages to calm her bottomless stomach in the morning since she became pregnant.

“It’s like twenty days that he comes here,” adds Simon, passing a cup of tea to his wife. “You really should go”.

“And then he looks sad, so sad, maybe he doesn’t remember rationally, but his heart does.” Clary mutters, trying to recover a donut herself before Isabelle bites another one.

Jace snorts softly and squeezes his hand on his shoulder, in an almost reassuring gesture. “Talking to him doesn’t cost you anything”.

And Alec looks down, the ring that seems to burn his finger at this moment reminds him that yes, it costs him nothing but it will be different anyway, because Magnus, though it is Magnus, is not his Magnus. And yes, it’s all different. And perhaps it is enough for him to know that he is, _well_ , that he is alive, that he has returned to work. That in this world Magnus exists even if his heart no longer has room for Alec, and that there will be there, alive, to love someone else. There will be alive enough to be a constant in Alec’s life. Even if he doesn’t know that Alec exists.

“Go ahead and talk,” his mother murmurs, head down on the report before her. “You managed to make him fall in love with you once. You will succeed again”.

And Alec sucks a bitter breath. And he would really scream aloud that it will be different, that in the end it was the opposite way around, and was Magnus who did all the work, Magnus who made him fall in love, but before he can say anything, anything, Isabelle pulls him a flip on the shoulder dirtying his shirt with the icing sugar mesh.

“Trust me, I’ve been there,” she says in a low voice, nodding her head in Simon’s direction. “If he comes here this morning, you put on your shoes and go to talk to him.”

“Maybe with your incredible allure you can even take him out for breakfast...” mumbles Jace and then looks at Clary that nods to him. “I give you the day off. He will fall for you all over again, I’m sure “.

“It’s different,” he murmurs finally in a very low voice, like a whisper. “It will never be the same”. Yet, the plunge that makes his heart when he sees Magnus approaching the crossroads at the end of the streets, says just the opposite.

“The next demonic attack will never come fast enough to free you from this situation,” Jace grumbles . “Go. Talk. To. Him”.

Alec sighs again and turns his back to the window, better not to look. “It wouldn’t be the same, anyway. It was Magnus who made me fall in love and...” he sighs. “He made me what I am now”.

“You could still have something nice, don’t you?” murmurs Maryse , her eyes rising for a moment. “Different doesn’t mean bad”.

“Oh,” his sister chirps behind him. “He’s coming”.

“Take off your wedding ring and go out and talk to him,” Jace grumbles.

And Alec looks at his hand and then looks up at his parabatai . “Why should I take it off?”.

“You two aren’t married, Alec.” he says simply shrugging.

And it hurts, very badly. But it’s the truth. He is married to a different Magnus, with a Magnus that will never come back. He looks at the ring and maybe the eyes burn. He has never taken it off since Magnus slipped it on his finger, after exchanging promises that still resonate in his ears. Promises of an infinite time, of infinite possibilities.

“I mean you are, but...” mutters Clary trying to save the salvable.

Alec sighs and takes off his wedding ring, and suddenly feels naked and vulnerable without the tiny metal band encircling his finger. He entrusts it to his parabatai without saying anything.

“Go get what you are entitled” murmurs his mother in an almost sacred and definitive way.

And he starts towards the main door of the Institute.

And he remains motionless at the top of the ladder when he sees him.

He’s beautiful. He is so beautiful that perhaps even the photographs, or his memories, or his dreams more humid (and a little he’s ashamed of them, to tell the truth) make him worthily justice. But it’s so lost, so puzzled his expression that everything falls on Alec’s shoulders with an impossible vehemence. And it hits so hard, and breaks his bones. It’s like a jab in the stomach.

No, it will never be like before.

 

 

* * *

  

 

Magnus is back there. The Institute of New York towers imposing and ancient among the modern buildings, among the skyscrapers.

And for a moment he doesn’t even notice that there is someone watching him, from the top of the stairs, but then he focuses on him and there’s something going on, something clicks in him. In his chest.

His lizard brain tells him to go away, to escape that curse that is in there armed and could dispose of his body and make it seem that everything is in full rule, with the mandate of the Accords, but something, perhaps in his stomach or in the his heart forces him to look at that Nephilim at the top of the ladder.

And from that distance he can already say that he’s handsome. Of an almost unconscious beauty. Tall and dry, his hair messy over his head. And maybe the Angel really put in a lot of effort to make him such a piece of work.

That Nephilim descends the stairs in a hurry, and his brain still tells him to run away, but then he sees that nervous smile that he flashes at him. And his heart tells him to stay, or maybe it’s his legs that decide not to be cooperative.

“Is that for me?” he asks, his voice a little hesitant, and the smile flickers on his lips while his eyes, those eyes of an impossible blue, vibrate nervously on him.

Magnus swallows, and perhaps part of him wants to deny the obvious sign of a ring recently removed from the left ring finger. “If you like it bitter and with sugar and cream apart, help yourself”.

His eyes light up. They are a bright blue, like the sky in August, but they look gloomy. His hair, his decidedly patchy clothing, his alabaster complexion. He is terribly fascinating. And perhaps Magnus’ heart trembles as he hands him the cardboard cup. But he has that sign on his finger, which means that he certainly has ulterior motives, like all Nephilims. And Magnus has lived sufficiently, no matter how much he remembers the last few years of his life, he has lived long enough to know that he should not meddle in the Nephilims’ life, especially in that sentimental one.

“I don0t want problems with you guys,” Magnus groans and then remembers the two halves of bear’s claw in his sachet. “I don’t know, I violate the Accords if I don’t offer you half a bear’s claw?”.

And he, that young man, so damn young, he laughs a little awkwardly as he opens the plastic cup cap to pour two drops of cream and half a bag of sugar, in a gesture that seems so natural and fluid, as if he always did it. “No, but you do violate the Accords if you don’t agree to take a little stroll with me”.

And Magnus frowns, but perhaps his face contracts in a vaguely intrigued grimace. “Are you by chance flirting with me, Shadowhunter?” he mumbles rolling up the _r_ for longer than expected.

“Let’s say I’m better with bow and arrows... but sometimes I even hit the right spot with words,“ he replies, throwing a strange awkward glance before drowning his smile on the edge of the paper cup.

Magnus feels himself smiling with his whole body. “Well, I guess you already know who I am... and you know how much I like breaking the rules”.

And the young warrior frowns a little.

“But,” he continues. “I lived enough to know that I don’t have to plunder in the marital relations of you Nephilims... above all I am opposed to infidelity... whatever the Clave registers say” he mumbles pointing to the sign on the Shadowhunter’s left ring finger. “What do you want, a love potion? Because I don’t take married men to bed with me... so I can grant your request, but nothing more”.

And he looks hurt, confused and looks at his finger. He hears the sound of his tongue crushing against his palate. “What I want is no longer possible” he murmurs and seems to have swallowed a spoonful of burning coal. “Excuse me, it was stupid of me,” he adds, lowering his gaze before taking another sip of coffee. “Thank you for the coffee. Next time let me offer it to you” he adds with this strange disillusioned-like smile on his lips. “Have a good day... And take care─” and seems to want to say more but then sighs and turns his heels for climb back the steps toward the Institute.

And Magnus hears something in his gut pushing him, which forces him to climb the stairs and call him back to himself. And perhaps he stretches out to take his hand voluntarily or his instinct does directly all the work and the other stops and looks at him frowning and confused. “Er,” he mumbles. And he has never been this bad to do this thing, he flirts, for him flirting it’s easier than breathe and yet, yet there is something oddly different. Maybe it’s because his brain doesn’t trust that Shadowhunter, and it could have a point, seen the messes that were his old relationships.

“What?” the young Nephilim mutters.

“Well, I don’t want to violate the Accords, I think we had outstanding a walk, huh?” he mutters attempting a soft smile.

And that Shadowhunter looks at him with terribly gloomy eyes, a little adorable pout on his lips. “Maybe... maybe it’s a mistake”.

“If I promise not to ask you about your relationship, will you come with me? I make myself forgive by offering you breakfast... what do you think?” he asks softly. And perhaps his lizard brain continues to warn him to curb his tongue, he doesn’t have to mingle with the Nephilims’ business, but it fails, it fails or he doesn’t want to listen to that part of himself . “Surely you’d have read somewhere that you are absolutely my type, if you promise not to pierce me with your Seraph blade, in the literal sense of the term...” he adds, trying to limit his usual ego who tries to make a bit too much naughty pun. “I can offer you a day out of the monotony of shadow hunting”.

And that young warrior smiles a little more, in a way that Magnus couldn’t describe. He looks down, closes his eyes. “It’s really a good thing then, that the Head of the Institute offered me a day off”.

“Well, it will be my lucky day,” he replies, winking at him and holding out his hand. Perhaps, he must first investigate, before opening himself completely, before he can trust. Because from how he looks at him, with these limpid but sad eyes, he doesn’t seem to intend any harm, but he has lived a long time and knows that we must not trust the Shadowhunters, and trust his lizard brain instead. “Come with me, I’ll take you to the perfect place to have breakfast”. And Magnus already has in mind where to bring him, just try not to show it.

The Shadowhunter gulps down the last sips of his coffee when they reach the corner of the street, in silence. And it is a strange silence. One of those silences that are already full of something else. Of thoughts, of words.

And Magnus thinks, he fervently thinks that this person, of whom he may sooner or later have to ask for the name, has something familiar, something odd, something that smacks of nostalgia. And that’s why he can’t think straight, perhaps. But anyway, he doesn’t have to trust him, not immediately at least, he can’t trust him. Not yet. At least this is what he owes to his lizard brain.

But before Magnus can turn the corner and slip into the first alley to open the portal, that Shadowhunter makes a sound, a cough or something similar, to attract his attention. “What?”.

And the warrior hesitates a bit as if the words were stuck in his throat. “Do you need to open a portal?” he asks. And no, it doesn’t seem that this was what he wanted to tell him.

“Well, you can eat the bear’s claw practically every day and everywhere... but a real breakfast, which is worth our first meeting… I thought waffles,“ he whispers.

And the young Nephilim tightens his lips.

“What? Don’t you like waffles?“ he mumbles. “This can’t work good if you don’t like waffles, you know?” he adds playfully.

And he seems lost again in his thoughts but then stretches a small tentative smile. “I love them”.

“Great, for this we need a portal... because to eat the best waffles...” he begins to say.

“We have to go to Belgium...” the Shadowhunter answers in such a low voice.

And Magnus smiles. “I like how you think,” he mutters. “I don’t get your name, darling, if I have to take you to Belgium for breakfast, a late breakfast... I must at least know your name”.

And he pulls his breath between his teeth and swallows. Magnus could swear that he heard the sound of his Adam’s apple descending and ascending along the gorge. “Alec”.

“Alec. Great.” he nods and holds out his hand. “I, but you already know it, am Magnus”.

And Alec extends his hand with a certain hesitation, a twisted expression on his face. “Hi Magnus”.

“Very well, I would say that we can go” he decides and moves his hand to open a portal.

 

 

* * *

 

  

The warmth of Magnus’s magic is one of the things he missed most. After Magnus, of course.

And when the familiar whirlpool of the portal envelops him before it spits them out, Alec for a moment forgets that a piece is missing from this whole story, and that he is practically naked without his wedding ring.

But he can’t stop the urge to be with him, even if it hurts to see from his eyes that, no, he doesn’t recognize him.

When they reach the other side of the portal, Magnus seems to falter a moment and Alec stretches to support him. And then he looks around and doesn’t recognize where they are. He visited almost every single corner of Belgium with Magnus, in a sort of culinary tour, and the restaurant he believed Magnus would bring him was in Bruges, along the river. A magical place, really.

And instead they are here, in this terrible alley that smells like urine. Perhaps he isn’t yet able to take them to Bruges. “Are you all right?” Alec ssks softly, in a low voice. “Do you need some energy to stabilize your magic by chance?”

“What do you know about this process?” Magnus mumbles, and looks a little puzzled. “Anyway not, it’s ... it’s that I have trouble controlling it, lately... but I’m pretty good at portalling, so... we’re here for another reason”.

Alec would like to tell him everything, everything is there at the tip of his tongue, but he can’t. He can’t force him to remember, not now that his memory, his memories of Alec and their life together are in the hands of a demon, in the most hidden depths of Edom. “I have simply collaborated with many warlocks”.

“I understand” he answers. “They told me that the Clave’s policies have changed a bit over the past few years... and you’re a little bit more open to us Downworlders but...” Magnus sighs, and then he gives him a friendly, cordial smile. “Try to understand me, I’m a little reluctant to trust those of your kind”.

And if that smile were a real smile, one of those he did only when the problems of the Shadow World were outside their door, only when they were alone, then Alec’s heart would fill with joy. But it’s bitter remorse and nostalgia for all that he has lost that comes to bite his heart now, because that, that is a circumstance smile, one that he usually used for work, one of those that Magnus does with his clients. “I think it’s right,“ he says simply. “Why are we here then?”.

“Because I have to do something...” he begins to say. “We went away for a reason from the Institute, and I brought you here because the Shadowhunters are very few...” he adds and scrutinizes him frowning and severe.

“What, you want to ambush me?” Alec answers amused.

“I want to understand what you want from me.” Magnus replies the tone heavy, very serious.

It was a stupid idea, stupid he had also fallen for it: maybe he’s still Magnus’ type, but this Magnus still doesn’t trust those like him, Nephilims. This Magnus is not the one who fought by his side, he’s not the one that began with him the rapid change that has shocked the Clave and its rules. He’s just a warlock, a very powerful one. And while he sighs, he thinks he has only one chance to pretend that this relationship can work even without the starting premises. “I?” he says. “I don’t want anything from you”.

“And you would make me believe that you mysteriously have a day off. And do you want to go out with me? A warlock” Magnus mutters bitterly, giving a certain emphasis to the last words. “I’m not an idiot, Alec. I know that surely you guys have ulterior motives, I know you and your people. Certainly, I am your target or whatever, but I can’t understand why... It’s true: I have repeatedly passed before the Institute _but_ ─ “.

Alec doesn’t know how, but he managed to stop him. Without even opening his mouth.

Magnus looks at him curiously. “What?” he mumbles.

And only when this question reaches his ears, this simple word, Alec realizes that his eyes are full of tears and burn. That emptiness, the emptiness he feels every day that weighs on him, is still there even if he has Magnus in front of him. It’s always there. Because that Magnus didn’t even try to call him the old way, and clearly brought him there just to extract information from him. “I just want to have breakfast with you,” he says and only then realizes how much his voice trembles. “I don’t want anything, you’re not my mission...”. _I love you, god, I love you. I’ve always loved you. And now you don’t know it but you loved me_. He passes a hand and strokes his eyes to forget these words. “I thought I had impressed with my terrible flirtation”.

“Do you really just want to have breakfast with me?” Magnus asks, and his eyes are wide in that strange expression, as if something had snapped in him. “Just this?”.

And Alec looks down and rummages in his pocket. “Here,” he says, handing him the stylus. “Take it until we get back to New York”.

“What?” Magnus asks as he stares as the witchlight lightens up in a bright red for a moment. “What am I supposed to do with your stele?”.

“Keep it. I just want...” he sighs and the words die at the back of his throat, and they weigh like a boulder at the bottom of his chest. “I just want to have breakfast with you, I have no ulterior motives, I swear”.

And Magnus thinks about it a bit, and then hands him back the stele. “You are really something, eh? Alec... all right,” he adds and seems to weigh the words he left suspended first on one foot and then on another “I trust you, try not to make me regret this choice”.

And Alec ‘s lips turn into a half smile and nods.

“Come on, let me offer breakfast, for real this time” he adds, opening a portal and extending his hand. “And I also want to allow you to flirt with me in the most awkward way you know.”

Alec smiles and takes his hand and is one of the sensations that he missed most in the world. The sparkling heat of his magic that slides between his fingers, on the palm, on the skin. He could swear he could feel it walking along his tendons, inside his bones. And for a moment he forgets to be there with that Magnus who doesn’t remember him.

When the portal closes behind them, they are in Bruges.

The sun of the last days of March is reflected in the river and there is the smell of flowers and sunflower seeds bread in the air.

And Alec’s heart tightens a little in his chest. Probably Magnus will never know how important it is for him to be here. After they got married, on a September evening when the leaves began to darken and colour New York with a marvellous light, the very next day Magnus opened a portal and brought them to do a late, very late, breakfast here. The light was different, the river shone with these patches of colour that were the houses on the banks and the amaranth of the leaves on the trees, while the sky was beginning to dye with gold at sunset.

“It’s a place that I love” Magnus whispers. “I hope you’ll like it... they make really good waffles and...” then he stops and looks at the sign. “I imagine that many things have changed”.

And Alec does the same and looks up and then looks over the window. It was changed in management. There was this adorable old couple, of whom Alec admired the union and the love that showed through their very eyes, and now there are only young people in there. They also changed the name, but that is undoubtedly the place. And he holds his tongue between his teeth not to say he’s sorry, because he really shouldn’t know anything about this place, right?

“Damn.” Magnus swears under his breath “I didn’t know. Or maybe I did know but now I don’t remember it.” he mumbles and then looks at him and smiles a bit. “Do we want to try it anyway?”.

And Alec nods and squeezes his hand a little more, before leaving it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alec seems nervous. While settling on the other side of the table and adjusting the napkin on his legs.

Perhaps, Magnus must admit it, his reaction was excessive. Opening a portal and bring him in the middle of the most infamous suburb of Pittsburgh one of the places with less Nephilim in circulation, was indeed excessive. But it’s better playing safe, nice and easy, because here his freedom may be at stake. And not only what could come out of this meeting, or date or whatever. Whatever Alec really wants from him.

“So...” Alec begins to say, his eyes down on the menu. “What do we want to order?”.

“Waffle. And some fruit, what do you think?” smiles Magnus. “And I would like a tea. You?”.

“Me too. I’m fine with whatever you choose... I’m not good with these things” he adds closing the menu and moving his gaze outside the window. He looks so sad now. Even more than before, when he told him he didn’t trust him, or even before on the stairs of the Institute.

“Any chance that I’ll find myself at the Gard by tonight, if I get the wrong brew?” Magnus says amused to cheer him up a bit.

And Alec turns his gaze on him and frowns, in a fake serious expression. “It is a crime against the Accords to make a Nephilim drink the wrong tea” he smiles then, but the smile doesn’t reach the eyes. “But I’ll pretend I like it”.

And Magnus would like to smile, but that expression so sad makes him sad too, and he feels that strange nostalgia that suddenly weighs in his heart. Maybe it’s because the place hasn’t changed that much but the two old spouses who worked there are no longer here. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he asks.

And Alec looks back at him again, his eyes flicker a bit on him with what that seems like hope. “Here?”.

“In Belgium... you said something...” he begins to say in the attempt to make conversation, but it is strangely difficult.

“Ah, yes... a lifetime ago” he replies looking at him as he calls the waiter with a wave of his hand.

“Not for work, I guess...” Magnus deduces.

Alec shakes his head and returns to look out. “It’s beautiful here,” he adds.

“True” Magnus nods and then finally the waiter is ready with his notebook and takes to pin down their order.

After having communicated their requests, he returns to watch Alec, who is still absorbed in the river, in the colours of spring that is starting to bloom and which are reflected in the clear waters.

“It has to do with that sign, doesn’t it? That of the ring on your finger...” Magnus murmurs.

And Alec looks at him, and then looks at his left hand and looks at him again. “What?”.

“This, your sadness. I see it from your face that─” Magnus tries to say. “I know I told you I wouldn’t ask you anything, but...”.

“You’re curious, I know.” he nods and smiles with a certain readiness. “It’s over now,” he replies very softly under his breath and looks at the sign of the ring, while sinking his cheek against his fist. The very light veil of beard that marks the profile of his jaw may age his face a little. He is so young, and so sad. “I took it off but... I feel naked, I’ve never taken it off since... my husband put it on my finger and...”.

“Your husband?” Magnus repeats babbling. “So it’s true that you Shadowhunters did become progressive… Catarina, my friend, is right so... you have changed. For the better I would say”.

Alec makes this smile light, and this time from his eyes shines a fondness that he didn’t expect. “ _We_ have changed the rules. He changed the rules, by my side... now it’s a bit easier to love whoever you want...” he adds, letting his thumb still run to caress the sign of the ring.

 _He must love him a lot_ , Magnus reflects. “Is that why you approached me, do you want a love potion?”.

“No.” Alec smiles and that smile is bitter and then shrugs. “No, and I think those who really work are illegal, you know right?” he replies.

“Oh, but if you have what you want, no one should know,” he replies with a wink. “I give mundies a sloppy potion that doesn’t have any effect, just the power of suggestion... but with you I could really use something strong”.

And Alec covers his mouth with his hand to stifle a half-laugh, and then rubs his left eye with a finger. “It wouldn’t be polite of me, even if it were legal,” he adds, and goes to rub the ring finger in the palm of his hand, as if trying to make that sign disappear. “And now it’s late”.

“He had to be special,” he says, and Alec looks at him, narrowing his gaze, as if to plumb at his soul. “I mean, your husband had to be special. The Nephilim love only once, right?”.

Alec sinks with his back in his seat and heaves a long deep sigh. And maybe his eyes are glassy, as before when he asked what the motivation behind his actions was, he seems hurt, he seems knocked down, he seems so many things, and maybe Magnus could swear to have heard the sound of his heart breaking in that silence that follows the sigh.

Another waiter, a young man around perhaps eighteen years old, rests the dishes on the table a little noisily and interrupts that impossible silence.

Alec stretches and begins to cover his waffles with an impossible dose of sugar and cinnamon. “He was,” he says. “Special, I mean. It was the love of my life, as you say, we only love once in a lifetime...” he adds and his eyes are glassy, certainly this time, and his voice trembles. But there is a small fond expression over his face. “His smile made even the most black and bloody days better... I just had to go home and find him waiting for me to feel better” and he shakes his head, then, and tightens his lips. Then he prepares to put into the teapot the mixture of herbs that Magnus has chosen for them. “How much sugar do you want in tea?”.

And Magnus feels something moving in his heart, in his stomach, something that would make him stretch to hold his hand to wipe away his tears. “Bitter, thank you”.

“Uh, life is already so bitter...” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m sure he loved you very much,” he says, looking down at his waffles . “Not all relationships are made to last, but...” he hums and smiles cautiously, maybe it wasn’t something he should have said. “And then this story that you love only once will be for your tendency to die like flies... and not a kind of life sentence” he adds and then looks at him, stretching a smirk. “But is very romantic”.

And Alec doesn’t answer, he only limits himself to cutting that late breakfast and dipping the waffle in the vanilla cream.

Magnus is about to do the same when he looks up and looks at Alec, and discovers that Alec is watching him in silence. “Do you want me to let you forget that person? Maybe this is it? You’re young, how old are you? Twenty-five? You have a whole life in front of you. You can have a family, children even if...”.

But Alec shakes his head with his lips tight and Magnus could swear he can hear him swallow noisily, empty because his waffle even in small pieces is all there on his plate. “I wouldn’t be able to forget him anyway,” he replies. “Even the strongest spell couldn’t make me forget his existence in my life and the emptiness he left behind”.

“The emptiness is evident and never leaves us, mh?” and at the confused look of Alec, Magnus continues. “I feel too” Magnus replies a bit lost in his thought.

And Alec raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You have... you said before that, let’s say, you have trouble remembering”.

And Magnus looks at him a little puzzled. Did he really say that? Maybe yes. Perhaps when he entered the restaurant, he said something. Maybe he already knew that the owners had left the business, maybe just doesn’t remember. “I... I had a little problem, let’s call it that...” he replies and is smiling as he watches Alec squeeze three or four pieces of waffles into his mouth together with two tablespoons of fruit salad. “I lost my memory... of the last, mh? Six years. Impossible, right?”.

“Do you remember anything at all?” he asks. And perhaps Magnus can feel the slight inflection of almost hope in his voice.

“I don’t know. I don’t know...” he sighs. “But it seems I did something stupid.”

“Surely it was something brave,” he replies, very serious. And they seem like words that he has already heard, or perhaps he has said. Just this exchange, but perhaps it is only influenced by all this talk.

And Magnus decides to postpone, and smiles a bit. “I don’t know, I know that maybe I lost a person... or at least maybe there was someone in my life, before all this mess...”.

And Alec seems to light up, suddenly, his eyes move on him. “How can you say that?”.

“It’s more a feeling, how could I... every now and then I wait for my door to open and...” he sighs shrugging. “I do not know, anyway... but maybe it’s better to talk about something else, right?”

Alec moistens his lips with the tip of his tongue and nods “Yes, in fact the club of broken hearts doesn’t seem very tempting...” he says putting another forkful of waffles in his mouth . “So, what do you want to talk about?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s odd, to be honest. It’s really weird to talk with Magnus, with a different Magnus but still very similar to his Magnus. His voice is the same, the way he talks to him, the way he laughs.

From time to time he seems to see his eyes shine on him, his _true_ eyes. And his smiles, during all their late breakfast have become more and more genuine and every now and then his puns become really hot and more than once Alec may or may not being choked.

Two portions of waffles later Magnus offered him a walk.

It’s a relief for his heart to hear him speak, the velvety voice that tells him stories he has already heard, brings him back a little, when they were in bed, at night and sometimes Alec couldn’t sleep and Magnus stunned him words, stories of a distant life.

And hope may come to him and blossom like the spring that is blooming everywhere around the city. Even if Magnus will never remember him, maybe Alec can really make him fall in love with him all over again. Maybe his mother is right and having something different may not be so bad.

After walking through Bruges, until almost dusk, he suddenly took his hand and it was electricity, right away. Of course, he took his hand even before, but now it’s just something different. As if he was transmitting something to him. A sense of calmness and belonging that Alec doesn’t really want to name. And that makes him hold his breath.

And when Magnus opens the portal, a little terror spreads in Alec. The fear that this day is already over.

And Magnus smiles with a tad of fondness. “Don’t make that pout, come on,” he whispers. “As adorable as it is”.

He waits to see the icy profile of some skyscraper, the wind that is channelled in the dense network of New York streets, and instead, the one that slaps his face is a cold and stiff wind, yes, but that comes from the sea, and what he sees are small red houses, with a white roof.

They are on a piece of land, draped through the turbulent waters of a distant sea.

“We are beyond the Arctic Circle” murmurs Magnus snapping his fingers and making a soft scarf appear around Alec’s neck that is very similar to what appears around Magnus’, the pattern is the same, the colours are different.

“It’s of an impressive beauty” Alec murmurs in a low voice.

The majestic snow-capped mountains stand out against the deep fjords, the crystal-clear water shines beneath the pristine skies of spikes that are the stars. The moon is high in the sky and sparkles with its impossible light to dye the waves of this noble white.

They walk, through the silent alleys of the town. They speak in a low voice as if they could disturb someone and then go back up the hill where they appeared.

It’s a mystery how the two of them found themselves this way. How come they are still talking about everything and nothing, while the stars in the sky sparkle at the edge of the green gash in the aurora borealis that plows the firmament . Perhaps Magnus also feels that call that binds their hearts to a double thread. And perhaps Alec can afford to hope.

Alec feels the icy wind slapping his face, and certainly has a cold red nose. And maybe he should activate one or two _thermis_ runes, but he is too busy to feel his heart pounding hard in his ears. And perhaps he can pretend that this is the right place, that the one next to him holding his hand is Magnus, _his_ Magnus, who married him about eighteen months ago, and who Alec lost eighteen months ago. He can pretend that this has always been his place, that his heart that he feels in his ears beating hard and loud is all intact and not all broken and cracked, battered. Or he can only decide that all this whirlwind of emotions is given by an atmospheric event. Like the aurora.

“You said I had to flirt shamelessly with you... and you take me to see the northern lights?” Alec finally says. “This is playing dirty”.

“It’s the right time of the year... at the end of March...” Magnus mumbles slowly with an amused expression. “And then a portal doesn’t cost me anything”.

“Well, it’s not really true that it costs you nothing, doesn’t it?” he sighs. Magic comes with a price, and his still unstable, it will probably have a terrible effect tomorrow on his body.

“Let’s say I was glad to bring you here. Look at your face. See you smile” he replies.

And only in that moment Alec realizes that Magnus is watching him closely. “See me smile, really?” he whispers moving his gaze to rest on the warlock face. “You’re a sap”.

“Oh, well I was hoping to impress with the aurora borealis...” Magnus shrugs his shoulders, that amused smile still on his lips.

And Alec hears something in his heart, something beating that moves slowly inside him and that finally seems to be in the right place. Maybe, maybe it really had to go that way from the beginning, maybe it was their destiny to get lost and find each other again. Or maybe he’s imagining everything, and Magnus isn’t looking at him that way, that way takes his breath away.

“Did you want to make a splash?” he asks, and his voice comes out hoarse, a little shaky.

“Well, _Alexan_ ─” Magnus begins to say and then stops.

And this tears Alec’s breath away like a bad blow right in his ribcage, like another hard jab in the stomach and maybe he can feel his eyes burning in the corners again, maybe he wants to cry a little, but he must think that somehow, even if it’s different, it’s okay. He has Magnus. No matter how battered his heart is. This must become his mantra.

“I mean, _Alec_ ” Magnus mumbles. “I could have lived longer than you could even remotely imagine” he smiles. “I know how to impress, if I want to impress”.

And Alec tries to ignore the fact that he was going to call him the old way. “And you want to impress?” he asks with a sheepish smile and perhaps should hold his tongue when it comes out “I mean, we don’t have to rush, right?”.

“I think it depends on what you want, Alec.” Magnus replies smirking a bit. “You are the one who came to me to flirt... or did you just want my coffee?”.

And Alec smiles, but says nothing. He is thinking, difficult as it is now to think straight, that this perhaps is a kind of half confession or whatever it is.

“I mean I don’t want to be the tempting devil here...” Magnus adds. “I don’t want to tempt a young, and let me tell you, very handsome Shadowhunter to start a relationship with the infamous Magnus sweet cheeks Bane, the harbinger of debauchery...” he quips winking at him.

“I don’t believe that what is written in the Inquisitor’s registers is true, however...” Alec hums, not at all impressed by all his act.

And Magnus looks at him confused.

“I mean, _I mean_ ,” he adds, and perhaps a minute. “If this is what I want? Try with you?”.

“Try what?” Magnus asks, doing the dummy.

“This. Us.” he says gesturing, pointing to their chests. “Me and you”.

And Magnus seems to weigh his words in the impossible silence that follows. The light swashing of the sea waves that echoes in the complete immobility of the fjord, under the light of the northern lights.

 

 

* * *

 

 

This thing between them can really be something beautiful. That’s what Magnus thinks. And maybe he’s already lost for that young Nephilim, and his lizard brain could know better. And maybe it’s early, it certainly is too soon. And, damn, he’s so stupid, even though he has lived so many goodbyes, so many broken hearts for all his eternal life, for all his broken relationship. He is so stupid, his long and troubled love life didn’t teach him a thing. Yet, it seems that this Nephilim here is different. Maybe Alec is really something different, maybe he has the keys to the armoured doors of his heart and he has practically stumbled into Magnus’ life without too many ceremonies, and has broken through his wards without him noticing.

But there is one thing that must be made clear. “I don’t want to fill a void, Alec,” he says in a low, severe voice. “I don’t want to be a replacement. But I can cure your broken heart, at least. And, please, if that ring is so important to you, don’t take it off. I don’t want to compete with your lost love... and if he comes back I’ll let you go”.

He hears Alec pulling a long sigh with clenched teeth and then watches him looking up at the sky, while he gulps something like more air that got stuck in his throat.

And it seems almost unreal when he starts talking.

“He... my husband is gone,” he says, and swallows twice before looking at him. “We got married just before he...” he stutters, and the words die at the end of his gullet.  

 _He died_. That’s what Magnus deduces.

Alec leers a small soft smile. “He was─no, he _is_ the love of my life and you can’t be a replacement because he is irreplaceable for me, _yes_.” he murmurs, his eyes shine in the light of dawn, and his lips are still curved in that sweet, gentle smile. “It wouldn’t be right for any of us, especially for you... you can’t compete with those who aren’t there anymore “.

Magnus purses his lips, an impossible pain in his heart. He is so young, and has already lost that much.

“But as I said...” Alec starts again, and then swallows hard “I want to try. Maybe something good comes out for both of us. Maybe we can both be happy...”.

And Magnus doesn’t know what to say. Perhaps there is still a small part of him that doesn’t trust completely, which is not very convinced of this whole situation. But there’s something that speaks to him, something that comes from his heart, that is trying to tell him that, yeah, the two of them are like the two missing halves of the same portrait, the two missing halves of the very same apple. And that’s some silly thought, to be honest, because Alec has found his other half. And Magnus had certainly had a lot of relationship that proved him that maybe he doesn’t have a matching half.

“Because I observed you, Magnus, these days when you came to the Institute and...” he mutters. “You looked so sad and... I don’t want you to ever feel like that again. So, yes, we need to know each other a little more but...”.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, let’s get to know each other better.” “And neither do I want you to ever make that sad expression again. I will not replace your... your husband. In fact, when you’re ready you can talk to me if you want. I can’t say I observed you, I... but I feel that there is something that makes me stay here with you... that tells me ‘ _try it_ ’, and is clearly stronger than that one that says ‘no, don’t forget this is a Shadowhunter, they are dangerous’... because, between us, and being honest, Alec...” he begins to say and approaches him. “You don’t look so dangerous”.

“You didn’t see me all armed and geared” he replies grinning.

“Oh! Kinky!” he replies amused. “Is it a date by chance?”.

Alec snorts a laugh. And it looks like something Magnus has already heard and seems to warm his heart. “You are terrible! But if you like it, once I’m on my way after patrol I...” and then he stops and widens his eyes.

“What’s up?” Magnus asks.

“Heck, let’s go to the Institute.” He grumbles. “I mean not now, not right now... but I definitely have to go back and go on patrol... my sister is pregnant and... but I’m feeling so good here, I was almost forgetting”.

“Are you feeling so good here, or are you so comfortable with me?” Magnus asks an amused grin on his lips.

“You know the answer,” he whispers, coming a little closer to him. “We could go back and… I’ll take you to a place to grab a bite before I take you home, mh?”.

“Oh, Alec, it will end that I will fall at your feet by the end of the evening...” he smiles.

“Well, that was my plan from the very beginning,” Alec replies, winking at him with a heart-throbbing smirk.

And Magnus may not even try to hold back the slight moan of assent and satisfaction that escapes his lips. Maybe this was what was needed in his heart, maybe the nostalgia will stop biting his nose every time he wakes up and now he has a reason to go to the Institute every morning.

He moves his hand to open a portal. “Where do you want to bring me?”.

“There’s this place that makes some really cruel bacon burgers in Williamsburg.” Alec says smirking. “I don’t know, could it suit your taste?”.

“Oh, Alec...” he mutters, smiling. “I’d say that I can’t say no to something you have described as cruel. If I don’t fall at your feet for your goofy gentleman skills, I will fall at your feet for high cholesterol... you sure are smart”.

“You have to have a strategy in life, this is what they teach you when you’re a young Shadowhunter...” he replies, holding out his hand. “Let me do the honours”.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alec is _assaulted_ by his family when he returns to the Institute to prepare for his night watch.

Isabelle has clearly been there waiting by the door all the time, she can’t be particularly helpful at the time if not in the armoury and surely she gets bored all day to fill in paperwork and maintaining contacts with the Clave. So she is the first to attack with the third degree.

“So?” she begins to say. “I could feel from how you climbed the stairs that you’re happy...”.

And this realization collapses between Alec’s head and neck, but it isn’t so unpleasant. He is happy, it’s true. Maybe it’s the first time he’s felt better since a year and a half. Of course, this doesn’t solve his problems, this doesn’t solve his story with Magnus, but at least today he feels a little better.

“It went well, I knew it!” Jace says, joining him and Isabelle at the entrance. “Have you already gotten to the third base? Because what I hear from the rune is─” he mumbles but is interrupted by Clary’s well-deserved nudge in his side.

Alec snorts in a sort of silent thanks to his sister-in-law, while his brother protests, when he sees him heading towards the armoury. Perhaps he would like to tell them everything, all together. Their little detour to Pittsburgh because Magnus didn’t trust him, the breakfast, the walks, the chatter, the northern lights and that half confession on that island. Perhaps he wants to talk about how much he missed seeing Magnus’ eyes widen, even if still protected by glamor, at the sight of the huge sandwich he ordered, or how he had to hold back from kissing him, before letting him go up to the apartment. He certainly won’t tell them how he jumped on the building in front of the loft to watch him one last time, before returning to the Institute. But he has to tell them something, to his brothers and their consorts, seeing that they are following him around while he’s collecting all the armaments for his night watch.

But he prefers to focus on a simple. “He’ll come here tomorrow morning, he’ll bring me coffee and we’re going for a stroll in the park, I think”.

“You went for a walk even today,” Simon points out. “And you’ve been out all day”.

“What happened? I want all the details!” Isabelle chirps.

“It’s the most exciting thing that’s happening here from... uhm? That time that Raum demon tried to kiss-eat Jace’s face while he hugged him all...” Simon groans.

“I could disagree,” Jace mutters, narrowing his gaze. “I wouldn’t call it exciting at all...”.

Alec snorts a half laugh, and he welcomes that little sound. A laugh. “Well, if I didn’t have to go out on patrol... I would tell you everything, but─” he snorts mimicking a clumsy dramatic act. “Who’s on duty with me?”.

Simon raises his hand. “Here I am!”.

“Try to get all the information out of it,” he hears from his sister. “I want all the juicy details!”.

“Consider that if you don’t try to extract any information, it will end up the Clave registers. And I’ll have you exiled to Wrangel Island, “adds Jace .

“It seems excessive...” Alec replies, adjusting the gear on his back. “Our first meeting went... I would say well. I have his phone number, he told me to send him a message as soon as I get back here. And, as I said, we’ll see each other again tomorrow, and that’s all”.

There is a moment of silence. Everyone looks at him, with such hopeful eyes.

“What?” He grumbles, and a part of him thanks his mother avoided the third degree to which he has been subjected by these four.

“We were right!” Jace grumbles, grinning. “You have his number, this is such a big step, already... and then you’ve spent the entire day together practically and he wants to know if you come home...”.

Alec swallows and looks at Clary . “Are we going too fast?”.

“What are you talking about?” Isabelle grumbles. “You two are meant to be together! And anyway, I don’t recall that you two have gone so slow the first time...”.

“This is also true,” nods Simon, taking his weapons.

Alec sighs, Clary hasn’t said anything yet and this gives him some thought.

“Does he remember anything?” she asks in the end, and maybe that’s the question everyone wanted to ask.

Alec shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times that thick lump that appeared in his throat. “Nothing. He says he feels that maybe there was someone... but he can’t explain this feeling “.

Clary sighs. “Maybe it only takes time... maybe when you fix your relationship, maybe this is the key to loosing this kind of curse, you know?”.

Alec shrugs, he doesn’t want to keep his hopes up, hoping is bad for the heart after all. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” he repeats and settles his quiver on his shoulders. “Let’s go, Simon”.

“Extract other information” grumble Jace and Isabelle in one voice.

And Simon shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Tell me something, brother, help me”.

“Come on,” Alec groans, leading him towards the door.

 

  

* * *

 

  

“Where have you been?” Catarina’s voice reaches muffled at Magnus’ ears. She’s doing the night shift at the hospital and Magnus called her to get her some company and give her the news.

“Hello Catarina, my dearest, how’s your evening? A lot of emergencies?” he asks as he retrieves a bottle from his liquor cabinet. He still has wet hair after the long shower he has done, the towel on his shoulders and the peignoir tied at the waist.

“Sleepy evening,” she answers hastily. “Magnus, I came to look for you at home since I needed material for a potion and you weren’t there... are you okay? Your magic?” she grumbles then, the tone is perhaps more inquisitive than worried. “Did you do anything stupid?”.

Magnus snorts softly as he pours three shots of scotch into the glass. “Cat, I’m not a child... I didn’t set anything at fire, I just did... _a walk_ ”.

He feels that she crushes her tongue against her palate, like when she is cringing and is about to pull his ears. “All day?”.

“Out of town.” he answers and remains motionless, waiting for her to say something, anything.

The silence that comes from the other end of the telephone is almost deafening.

“I met a person,” Magnus says, hoping to get a reaction.

“I could guess from your tone, in fact,” she snorts, but it isn’t a playful snort, is like a sigh.

“I feel good... I...” he mutters and tries to put into words what he has been thinking about all day, since his heart told him to stop in front of the Institute and offer Alec a late breakfast, but only now he actually formulates it clearly. He walks around the couch, as he does when he has to explain a concept and can’t find the right words. “It’s like we’ve known each other for a long time... I don’t say in the same way I know you and Ragnor but...” he sighs.

“If it’s a vampire, I swear to God, Magnus...” she begins to say, and her tone is peremptory and severe now, her voice no longer low.

And Magnus snorts again and runs a hand on the back of his neck, the hair still wet fall back on the neck and make him shiver . “Look, I remember what Camille did to me,” he replies. “I have lost only my memories only the last... five years, if we don’t count the year I slept... otherwise I would say six years”.

“I would say more than six years,” Catarina replies. “So, who is it?”.

He even smiles at the idea, and knows for sure that she might be enraged, but she was the first to praise the Nephilims. She said that she even taught at the Academy. But he smiles because thinking about Alec makes him feel good, and he also feels a bit like a high school student in the teen dramas they give the afternoon on the kids’ TV. “I know it sounds weird but... it was you who said that things have changed, that _they_ have changed”.

He hears that Catarina sucks a long sigh with clenched teeth. “Don’t tell me” her tone doesn’t seem playful or happy, it seems almost flat. Odd. “A Nephilim?”.

“His name is Alec,” he says, and he sincerely hoped for a different reaction. Perhaps he was expecting some concern because how the Shadowhunters have been proved dangerous throughout history.

“Magnus...” he hears her say, and it seems almost the same tone she used when she told him he lost his memory.

“I know what you think,” he says, interrupting her right away. “That I should be fed up with being used by them... that it’s the fault of one of them if I lost my memories, because I was helping them and...” he sighs. “Maybe they can help me, this time, no? To recover my memories...” he mutters.

“I told you it was a demon to take away your memories. He used an indissoluble seal... not even you could melt it…” mumbles Catarina.

“Yes, but you also said that there was one of them with me...” he mutters. “Maybe Alec could help me, find this Shadowhunter and maybe find a way to...” he stops. This isn’t what he wants, Magnus just wants─ “He is different from the others. I feel it”.

She sighs. And Magnus wouldn’t know if it was relieved or discouraged her sigh, not seeing her face and hearing that muffled voice on the phone he wouldn’t be able to grasp all the nuances of her thoughts. “You feel it?” she repeats.

“It’s a feeling, I don’t know how to... explain it, all right?” he murmurs taking a sip of plenty of smooth scotch, as he takes a seat on the sofa. “I told you it’s like I’ve always known him… like my heart knows him”.

He hears Catarina taking a long breath with her nose. “Take it easy,” she tells him. “I have to go, we’ll talk better tomorrow, okay?”.

“All right,” he replies. “Good work, my dear”.

Magnus hangs up his phone, his new phone, with a new card, with few numbers. The majority are of his customers. He didn’t even know he had a phone like that, but he needed to work for his mundane clients who certainly can’t use fire messages, as Catarina told him. And now he waits for that devilry to chirp with a message from Alec.

And he feels nostalgic again, suddenly, and looks at the door and for a moment he feels his magic vibrating in his veins. Maybe Alec will be able to help him remember, or at least fill a bit of the emptiness he has in his head.

The phone screen lights up.

‘I’m climbing the stairs of the Institute, I hope you’re already in bed.  
See you tomorrow.  
Sleep well. A.’

And Magnus smiles and doesn’t know whether to answer. Perhaps he would like to be allusive, or perhaps he would just like to go to the Institute and get him out and kiss him in the moonlight and tell him “Sweet dreams” in his face. But he opts for a simple: ‘Goodnight to you, see you tomorrow’.

And tomorrow morning he will have a good reason to have two coffees in his hands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alec has survived Simon’s, a bit clumsy, third degree. It was enough to glare at him a couple of times and he stopped blabbering. And it was a quiet evening, so he’s back early.

After sending a quick message to Magnus, he started first in the armoury and then walked to his room.

And to be honest, perhaps the surprise he found there had to be expected at some point.

Catarina is still dressed in her gown and nurse slippers. She is looking at the pictures, all the photos that Alec took from the apartment and placed in his room at the Institute, in a vain attempt to make that place more welcoming, warm.

The wedding ring he took from his finger sits at the centre of that sort of altar to his lost love, while the other, Magnus’ one, dangles at his neck on a chain.

“He told you,” he says, when she turns and looks down at him.

“You didn’t have the right to do it, Alec” she says shaking her head. “It’s not the right time... his magic... that demon...”.

“He’s my husband, Cat.” he says softly. Because sometimes he has to remind someone, even if Magnus doesn’t remember, Alec des. Alec has in his mind every single moment spent together, and every moment they have spent apart. He has every silence in his head, every smile, every kiss. He remembers every single moment.

“We talked about it, Alec. It’s dangerous” she hisses.

And if Alec were just a little bit more like his parabatai he would do some cocky comment, perhaps grinning, and saying that it’s a good thing that danger is their job. But he merely stares at the woman, who looks back at him. And he grinds his teeth, and reflects how answer her. But he decides to postpone.

“You shouldn’t have,” the warlock reiterates. “And then it’s not good for either of you,” she adds. “You remember what happened last time, right?”.

Alec swallows, with a clenched jaw. He remember everything. Everything about Magnus. Everything. And he looks at her, ponders the idea of sketching another, umpteenth smile, and letting everything slide. But he is so tired. So damn tired. “He is my husband”.

“No. Not him. This Magnus doesn’t know about your existence until today. You can’t plunge into his life like that.” Catarina reproaches again, heavy and severe her voice.

Alec approaches the door and opens it. And his movement is incredibly rhythmic and calm, in sharp contrast to what he feels inside. “Go away”.

“Alec...” she mutters, staying in place.

“If you don’t understand this much, go away.” he growls. He can’t take it anymore. He’s so tired, so lonely, so lost.

“I didn’t say I don’t understand. I have to protect his and your feelings. Your conditions...” Catarina mumbles. “It will hurt you. I don’t know if he will ever come back... to what it was before that demon’s spell... but for now this Magnus isn’t your husband here anymore” she says, pointing to the photograph of their first dance as husbands.

And Alec could swear he hears that song, the one they danced that day. And decides to close the door. Rolling his eyes, and is pretty sure he does it in the most noisy way he knows, he finally swallows hard that lump in his throat. As if he didn’t know it. As if he didn’t know it, his life has changed forever and has been erased from Magnus’ memory too. His very existence doesn’t exist in Magnus’ new life. Didn’t exist, up until today.

“I told you. You two have been cursed. He doesn’t remember anything, and I don’t know what will happen if he ever remembers. Last time...” she continues to say.

“I know what happened that time.” he murmurs in such a low voice. She had to patch him up, stick his bowels in place because Magnus magic reacted to his memory loss, and to Alec’s presence in a unique way, almost killing Alec. “And in fact” he continues “I didn’t try to make him remember anything: I don’t want him to feel that way. I just want my husband back. I just want him back.” he replies and everything comes out in a calm, quiet tone, and almost astonishes at his own calmness, but forces himself to turn around and recover something to change into. He just wanted to go to bed and wait for tomorrow, for Magnus and their breakfast together, but now who knows if he can sleep.

Catarina, however, continues to talk behind him. “If he tries to remember, he could summon the demon that will take you and all his sacrifices will be in vain, do you understand that? You were the demon target all along, you know, right?”.

Alec swallows and then looks at her. “It will mean that I will have to kill that demon myself... and maybe that way he will come back to me, Magnus will remember”.

“No. No. You’ll endanger the both of you, you’ll risk to put you two to death for what?” she groans.

“For our love,” he says simply and narrows his eyes on the blue warlock “Isn’t it enough?”.

Catarina sighs.

“I always knew I couldn’t have what I wanted... until he came along.” he hisses, moving a step closer to her. “I can’t live without him. I’ve waited all my life, I’m tired of waiting”.

“You will get hurt, Alec. What do you think comes out of all this?” she asks. “He is no longer the Magnus you knew”.

“He’s my husband,” he says, and he’s tired of repeating it, by dint of repeating it all these times it seems to be losing all sense. “He is the love of my life, Cat. And when he chose me, I chose him, and I chose to make him happy and be happy with him as long as I breathe. I don’t go anywhere, I won’t go anywhere. But I’m tired of waiting”. He’s so damn tired.

She sighs and shakes her head.

“He... you don’t know, you can’t know...” Alec says moistening his lips now dry like his mouth. “He comes in front of the Institute every morning... with two coffees from our usual shop. He says he knows there was someone in his life...” he murmurs and looks at her eyes that are widening at every information he discloses. “I didn’t barge in his life, I remember what happened that time... I don’t want him to suffer. But it is he who has returned to mine. Even if it’s no longer him... _my_ Magnus” he adds. “Maybe his heart remembers me…”.

“He comes here?” she repeats pensive, her brows furrowed.

“He comes here. With our usual breakfast. And I wouldn’t have gone to talk to him but...” he sighs. “I’m tired,” says monotonously, and feels it in every single cell of his body that burning fatigue.

“I know, Alec... that’s why I say you have to take easy...” she replies.

And maybe his rage that breaks out now is a bit unmotivated. But it’s so frustrating not being able to be with him, loving him, kissing him, even just watching him sleep or feeling him breathe against his skin. Waiting for something that might not happen is frustrating. “I’m fed up.” He manages to say, keeping an almost quiet tone. “I spent my whole life slowing down, unnoticed, denying the evidences, my feelings, my sexuality. That’s enough. He is the love of my life and I won’t give him up”.

“But it’s not him. Alec. Isn’t him. The Magnus from before is the one you love.” she repeats for the umpteenth time. “I know that─”.

He interrupts her. “What does it mean? It can be the same. We can have the same thing again, even with different premises, right?” he growls a light scowl furrowing his forehead. “What do you think I should do? Sit here and wait for the end of my life?”.

“Alec I did not say this...” Catarina murmurs.

“Because news flash... I’m _immortal_ Cat” he says it finally out loud.

“You what?” she asks shattered, her tone a octave higher.  

Alec nods, it’s the first time he talks about it with someone outside his family, and somehow Catarina is part of his family too. “I discovered it only recently, at the Silent City” he murmurs. “And it’s funny because I wanted unlimited time, infinite possibilities with Magnus... but now…” he sighs.

And Catarina is hushed finally, and looks at him with those big wide eyes.

“But maybe I have plenty of time to make him fall in love with me all over again, enough for hundreds of lives, to make him forget all the other lovers he had...” he says, his voice trembles and his eyes burn. “But even if I have all this time in front of me I can’t wait any longer. I need him. And I’m tired of waiting...” and this comes out like a whisper. And what helps him not to feel bad, but not that bad at least, is that today was the proof that Magnus can make him feel good. Even if this Magnus doesn’t remember him.

She looks at him in silence, her eyes wide.

“Come on, tell me” Alec grumbles and feels like a moron for doing so.

“Who made you immortal?” she asks, and the sound is so feeble that perhaps the question was another.

“You said it, I’m the demon’s first target, is not it?” he sighs as he sits down on his bed.

“Was that demon doing?” Catarina pleads. “Son of a─”.

“I’ve just discovered it,” Alec repeats. “That demon clearly wants to make me suffer.” he explains briefly. “I know that many demons from Edom feed on bad feelings, bad memories... taking them away from Magnus didn’t help but feed on my discomfort... and I guess that’s why...”.

Catarina approaches and sharpens a look on him. “Your runes?”.

“They work. Sobbing, but they work... I discovered it because the healing runes are struggling to activate but the others work well enough...” he nods. “That’s why I went to the Silent City”.

She sighs. “If he start remembering, he will suffer. His magic is uncontrollable right now, we don’t know how his body will react... he has a block on his memories, last time...”.

“You put me back in one piece. I know. I remember more than clearly, trust me…” he says hastily. “It will mean that we will build on the new. And if he does remember something, we will try to limit the damage...”.

She opens her mouth and maybe wants to say something else.

“I know, I know it will be dangerous,” Alec hums. “But he remembers something... his heart remembers a bit of me, he remembers our usual breakfast, our way here from the apartment… if he remembers that... his memories are there, his heart remembers me...” he continues with his speech, that’s like some kind of an harangue, a summation of his position, or more like a little prayer. “His memories are there, and I have a lot of time and I can wait... but that doesn’t mean I want to wait. And I know that maybe it will never be like before... that he will never be like before. That maybe he will never be my husband again, the one who took my heart away...” and he gulps hard, swallowing thickly again that terrible lump that has come to his throat “He maybe won’t look at me like that... lhow he looked at me.” and it hurts to admit it aloud but he knows it could happen, because Magnus is no longer _his_ Magnus. And his eyes burn. “This time I have to be the one to... to make him fall hopelessly in love with me. Even if he doesn’t remember, it’s okay. Even... even if it’s no longer him... it’s okay”.

Catarina sighs and remains silent for a long time, but finally she sits down next to him. “I see. I understand.” she then says, taking his hand in hers. “The things you say to him could make him and you hurt a lot. He couldn’t control his magic... I’ve already explained it, the demon could reappear and...” she stops and looks at him seriously, almost severely. “Now more than ever you risk getting hurt. But I will help you to limit the damage. He’s so miserable... he feels so lonely...”.

“The first thing to do is eliminate that demon, I guess,” Alec decides.

“It might not be a solution, but I’ll get to work to figure out how to do it without putting you in danger, and maybe I can work on some potion to help his memories…” she replies. “With that demon out, we could work with his memory in a protected environment,” she murmurs pensively and then moves her hand to reopen a portal just an instant before his pager beeps. “I have to go, take it easy, alright?”.

“I’ll go for breakfast tomorrow morning,” he informs her.

“Try not to overwhelm him.” that’s what Catarina recommends before diving into the portal.

That demon is their first goal. And maybe he can get his husband back. Or, or it can be good to make him fall in love all over again.

It’s already been done once, on the other hand, right?

They always manage to find their way back to each other.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> if you managed to get here, you're my favorite person!  
> I hope you liked the story, if it were so leave a comment or a kudo, and even if you didn't like this work, please let me know that I would like to improve with your feedback! If you find any misspelling or mistakes please let me know <3  
> Thank you so much for reading this!


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